FRIDAY, JANUARY 16, 11:20 P.M.

I’m going to kill that little jerk.

The movers finally came with all our stuff (thank God!) and I was so happy and excited to see my bed and all my stuff again, you wouldn’t believe. And I was trying to help out, carrying this big box full of lamps and picture frames and stuff, when Logan comes up and is like, “Hey Paige, look what I found.” So I glance over at him and he rubs something sticky and gray on my sweater, and then he holds up his hands and they are covered with spider webbing.

So of course I drop the box and probably break forty things.

Uggggggh, trying so hard not to freak out. I mean, it’s an old house, and old houses have cobwebs, right? It comes with the territory. But the spiders probably all died off a hundred years ago. It totally doesn’t mean there are legions of eight-legged monstrosities skittering in between the floorboards at night.